Walk Beside Me
by cheekybeak
Summary: When an injured and grieving Legolas arrives unannounced in Minas Tirith Elladan finds himself tested to his limits in the absence of his Brothers. The sequel to Walls of Glass.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This follows fairly soon after Walls of Glass. In order to understand the dynamics between Legolas and Elladan you really need to have read that first...and The Coronation, ( and that's kind of unfair to say I know as I haven't finished posting that one yet!) I think this will stand alone anyway but reading those two other stories might make it easier to understand.**

 **First Person: All Elladan.**

 **The title is taken from a quote usually attributed to Albert Camus.**

 **Walk beside me and be my friend. Something my Legolas and Elladan could do with learning.**

 **First chapter of what will be about Four I think.**

I often cannot understand my sister.

Perhaps that is simply the way of it, Brothers and Sisters are just not designed to know the internal workings of each other's minds. Perhaps the fact I can decipher my own Brother from the inside out as if he was myself has spoiled forever my relationship with my other sibling for we could never attain such closeness and any attempt would be doomed to fail. She remains a mystery to me, an enigma. At times like these especially.

She has called me to the Woodelf's chambers, and for the life of me I cannot think why. He is not here and for that I am grateful, one less occasion of discomfort for me to manoeuvre my way through. The less we are together the better for all those close to us as well as ourselves. It was a relief to find him absent on our arrival. Why my sister would think it necessary for me to meet her at his rooms I cannot imagine.

It does not take me long to find out and the discovery is not a pleasant one.

The living quarters of his rooms are empty when I arrive, she is not there but I can hear her voice from beyond the door and move through into the bedchamber.

They are together. He sits on the bed and leans forward into her arms, their foreheads touch as she whispers to him, of what I cannot tell, too soft is her voice for me to catch her words, a murmur only. It is an intimate display and one which stirs my anger immediately. Must he destroy us all? Can he leave none of us alone? What would my brother do if he discovered them here? Either of my brothers for that matter. Thank Elbereth they are miles away.

Arwen senses my presence before I can speak and draws away but makes no apology. Legolas, I notice does not move, does not acknowledge my arrival but sits as he was, head down. He ignores me. Such a response is not unusual, manners are not his strong point.

"We have need of you Elladan." my sister says as if my discovering them here is entirely to be expected. "Legolas has recieved an injury. He needs a healer." Her voice is soft and gentle and folds itself with love around his name.

"I did not know he was expected here." I on the otherhand sound rude and discourteous and I see her flinch at my tone. What of it? I think to myself. She should not be here, not with him.

"He was not." She replies she leans towards him once again and places her hand gently on top of the bowed head of golden hair. "But I am pleased he has found us. Will you help please Elladan." It is not a question but a demand.

Legolas says nothing. There is no response from him.

If he will not speak to me then I resolve that I will not speak to him either. It is probably for the best. What I have to say would not be pleasant.

I move to her side and I hope she can sense my disapproval, my churning anger. I make no attempt to hide it.

"What is wrong?" I keep my eyes determinedly away from her and sweep a healers gaze across the elf in front of me. It is easy to spot the area of concern. His posture gives him away.

"The shoulder then." I say and reach out to touch it, gently I peel the shirt away from bloodied bandages. I may be angry, I tell myself, but I am a healer. I will not cause unnecessary pain. I am better than that.

Still he does not reply, does not acknowledge me and it rankles. It is I who have caught him here in such an uncompromising position. He should be pleading with me, apologising at the very least.

The wound itself when I have laid it bare surprises me for his shoulder is a torn and ragged mess, infection burns within it, I do not have to guess to know that. It has been neglected and now that I am close I can feel the unnatural heat of fever radiating from his skin.

"What has caused this?" I exclaim before I can catch the words and hold them back.

"Warg."

It is the first word he has uttered. His voice is low and I must strain to catch it.

"There have been no wargs here for many years!" I know I sound accusatory and I don't know why for it is obvious now that he has said it that this damage has been caused by those fetid jaws.

"I did not receive it here." He makes no attempt to elaborate and finally I must look to my sister for an explanation.

"Legolas has come from Imladris."

"Imladris? We did not expect you there. You did not let Elrohir know." Did he deliberately try to make me look a fool?

"It was ...unexpected." He sighed. He sounded defeated. It was most unlike him and when he said nothing more I turn to Arwen once again.

She cradled his head to her chest as if she wished to prevent him hearing what it was she was about to tell me. Her voice when she spoke, little more than a whisper.

"Thranduil has sailed. Legolas has been to the Havens."

"Thranduil has sailed?" I repeat her words as if their meaning is lost to me. "We knew nothing of this." I say in my defence for why had we not been there my brother and I? We should have been there.

When I turn back see to Legolas, leaning into my sisters embrace I am horrified. It is as if scales have finally been prised from my eyes. What I had thought was arrogance and rudeness is now exhaustion and despair. What was insolence is now anguish. Why had I not seen this? I am a healer! Why had I been so quick to succumb to my prejudice? I am wretched and yet the anger is still there. Always, always he makes me less than I am.

For the first time he raises his head to look at me.

"They are all gone. The forest is empty...my people..." His voice cracks, disintegrates under the hopelessness that weighs upon him.

"I looked for you at Imladris...when I did not find you...I hoped Elrohir would be here."

"He is in Dol Amroth, he and Estel." My sister says, "If he had known...if we had known they would not have gone. If we had known, Estel would have done this with you Legolas."

Legolas retreats to his silence, withdraws from the use of words. The emptiness that follows is awkward. I am ashamed of my error of judgement, I have wronged him. I concentrate instead on the wound, it will be a big job to clean this and not a pleasant one. He knows this and as I begin I see his glance flit towards Arwen. A rare moment of understanding dawns on me. He does not want her here, does not want her to see this, to see him if he falters. I decide I will protect him and it is an unusual feeling but I owe him this much.

"I do not need help Arwen, this is a job best done alone. Perhaps food will be welcome when I am done?" It is pointed and clear. I am dismissing her and she does not like it but she goes nonetheless. I work with speed and care. Pain is inevitable but I will not inflict it needlessly. Legolas is stoic as he always is. I have always admired his strength of will though I have never admitted it. In the end though the pain defeats him.

"Please Elladan," he gasps "Is there something? Can I have something? It is too much."

He is grey, sweat beads upon his brow. I have pushed him too far and I am ashamed. I know what it has cost him to ask me this. Why did I not offer something sooner? I had doubted he would accept it but still the offer should have been made. Why does he make me do this? What kind of healer am I?

"Of course." I say for what else can I do but rectify my mistake as quickly as possible. "Something for the pain or I can make you sleep?" I do not think for a second that will be an acceptable option but he surprises me yet again.

"That would be welcome."

I look at him closely as I prepare it. He is weary beyond endurance.

"When did you last sleep?" It is so much easier to deal with him when I am professional, all business, a healer. He answers me with a shrug.

"I forget."

Days then at least.

Once he is sleeping the work is easier, quicker but even then he stirs and moans. I have not protected him from the worst of it but at least now I have tried my best. Too little to late. My Father would not be proud of me tonight.

When my sister returns he is sleeping and I am next door, at his desk bent over the letter I struggle to write. She looks at me questioningly.

"He is sleeping." I answer her unasked question.

"And what is your verdict? How is he?" She asks.

"He will heal. It is more his despair which worries me. He should not have gone to the Havens. It is the last place he should be. What was Thranduil thinking?!"

"I doubt he gave him any option." She says matter of factly and she is most likely right. Legolas is his own master. Even his Father cannot rule him effectively.

She curls up on the stool beside me. It reminds me of when we were children and she came to watch me complete my studies. She used to seek out my company often then.

"What are you writing?"

"I write to Elrohir calling him back. He needs to be here."

"And Estel." She adds, it is always Estel with her. The centre of her universe.

"I do not understand why he did not tell him. Why Arwen? Estel will be hurt, so hurt by this. Why does he do this?"

"They are still estranged." She says, " You know this. Things are not easy between them. Legolas...he cannot forgive himself." Then she smiles quietly to herself, "and he is always full of secrets. You do not know him Elladan. Legolas keeps things close. So many secrets."

She does not know that I am one of them.

Then I wonder, is she one as well? The closeness between them when I found them nags at me and lays a poison in my mind.

"He is broken and needed comfort. That is all you saw." She snaps, her voice is hard and bitter and it does not suit her.

"Stay out of my head!" I frown at her, "I have told you that before. My thoughts are mine alone! Ask permission before you steal them."

"I am not in your head Elladan. I do not need to be to see what you are thinking."

"You are too close to him! It is not right."

"I am his friend and that is all. He has more honour than you know. He would never allow us to be more than that. Nor do I want it now."

"If you think that you are a fool!" Shame floods through me. Why do I say these things? What is about him that drives me to it? She withdraws from me and in the end it is I who gives in, who apologises. The ache at her loss drives me to it.

"I am tired, forgive me. That wound was difficult to treat. I caused him pain. I am sorry, if only Father was here, he would have done things better." I say and I mean the apology completely, for now.

She puts her arms around me and immediately I feel at ease. She is talented my sister, at caring for others.

"Silly," she says, "You are the best there is. Do not doubt yourself. He is lucky you are here."

For anyone else she would be right. For anyone else I am the best there is.

For Legolas?

Not for him.

For Legolas I am a failure.

And I know it.


	2. Chapter 2

I decide to stay in Legolas's rooms that night. His fever concerns me and I have made enough errors already in his treatment. I need to atone for them if I can. In the end I fall asleep in front of the fire and it is yet another error. It seems where Legolas is concerned I can do nothing right.

I am awoken by the banging of a door in the wind. A restlessness surges within me, taunting me, pulling at me. Not now, I don't need this now, and I suppress it, driving it away. As I am awake I realise I should check on Legolas. It is dark, how much time has past I cannot tell but the sedative I gave him may well be wearing off by now. It is no surprise to me really when I see his bed empty. I have been sleeping too soundly and he has left.

To my relief he has not gone far however. The banging door which woke me is the one to his balcony. Back and forth it swings in the wind. I step through and sure enough he is there, sitting in the rain and wind. His hair whipped across his face. Water trickling in silver rivers down his face, and he is lost.

"Legolas!" I cry with alarm. He should not be here in this wet and cold. I can think of nothing worse for him and I must keep him safe, for my brother's sake, not my own.

He does not answer, does not move. His head is lifted to the sky and I know it is the sea which holds him. He has surrendered to it. I call his name again but to no avail. I need more desperate means to reach him and to drag him back. I know I must do it. He needs to be inside and warm. I run the risk I will lose him if I leave him here alone. What I do next goes against all my healers instincts, I resist the idea in my mind but I have no choice.

I place a firm hand upon his injured shoulder, not gently. I know it causes no small amount of pain and I am successful. He cries out in agony and flinches away from my touch turning to look at me his eyes wild and confused. He is back.

"I am sorry," I say by way of explanation. "You were lost, I needed to reach you."

"I was not lost." He says, "I knew where I was. Leave me to wander where I will."

"Come inside Legolas." I try to keep my voice low and gentle as my sisters was, try to keep the frustration and annoyance to a minimum. I am not sure I succeed.

"It is not a good place for you here. You are not well."

"I do not care." His tone is flat and monotonous and I know he speaks the truth. He does not play games with me.

"I care." I reply and he laughs at that, a bitter, hard laugh, a mile away from his usual light and joyous one.

"Do not lie." he says.

I see enticing him inside is going to take some time and energy and so I sit beside him, I cannot afford to leave him here. I am not in the mood to sit in this wild weather and yet it seems I have no choice.

"My brother cares." I seek to remind him of those who love him. "Both of them, and I care for them. I do not lie." and it is the truth. I must do what I can to keep him intact until they return. If I fail my brother's grief will overwhelm him. I cannot let that happen.

We sit in silence while I struggle to think of how I can get him to move against his will. Perhaps I should send for my sister?

In the end to my surprise it is he who speaks first.

"The sea is calling to me." He says. "It is insistent. I am awash with it, I cannot resist. It has been this way since the Havens but tonight...tonight, I can feel it on the very wind. I must be here, I must listen."

"I understand." I say and as soon as the words are out I regret them. I have been careless, but I am tired and anxious. Being responsible for his wellbeing when he is so uncontrollable, such a mystery to me is a heavy burden. It is as if the weight of my brothers future happiness, his very life itself presses upon me.

"You do not understand anything...Noldor!" He spits the words out in anger. My heritage used as an insult against me. I do not reply. He does not deserve a reply to that.

He does not apologise.

The rain stings as it beats against my face. The wind pulls at my hair. Tugging, tugging at my very soul. He is right. It sings tonight and for once I allow myself to listen. It is a strange and alien feeling to release myself to its call. Usually I expend much energy denying it.

"It is a yearning..." I whisper, despite myself. Why do I say this?

"It is always there. It is beautiful."

I feel him still beside me. I sense his head turn and feel his gaze, intense and inquisitive, strip down to the heart of me.

"Why are you here." He asks bluntly.

I break the hold the wind has over me, regretting its absence even as I do so.

"Because I am a healer and you are ill." I say. Is that not self evident?

He shakes his head in frustration. That is not what he meant.

"Why are you not with Elrohir...in Dol Amroth? Why do you tarry here?"

"I wish to see my sister." I say, and it is true for the most part. "Elrohir spent much time with her while he was here with you, I have not had that chance."

His gaze beats down upon me, unwavering. His strange hypnotic eyes glint in the moonlight bright with fever. He stares in amazement, as if he looks at me for the first time, as if he has never seen me before. His lips part, soft and enticing.

"You cannot go there." He murmurs.

I say nothing.

"You cannot go there," he repeats it. "It is too near the sea."

He has caught me. He has seen it. My deception is undone and to be honest it is a relief.

Legolas stares at me in wonder, as if I am a jewel to be cherished, a treasure. He has never looked at me this way before, as if he truly sees me. I wonder if this is how he looks at my brother when they are alone and loving. How lucky is my brother to be on the receiving end of such a look.

"Elladan...you do understand." He breathes. "You have no idea what it is...to have someone who knows!"

As quick as it arrived the look is gone and he frowns.

"Elrohir does not know this." It is a statement not a question.

I consider denying, diverting him with accusations, beginning an argument to lead him off my path but why would I do that? If I am truly honest with myself I wanted to be discovered.

"No, and Aragorn and Arwen neither. I would appreciate it if you did not tell them." My voice is clipped and angry sounding, harsh to my ears.

He nods,

"I understand, It would hurt them. Elrohir...he would not cope well." He understands my brother perfectly, I give him that for if he ever knew this Elrohir's fear would defeat him. I will never tell him. I feel his eyes upon me watching and it makes me uneasy. What does he look for?

"Does Glorfindel know?"

The question takes me by surprise, Glorfindel! The sound of his name uplifts me. Glorfindel, glorious, beloved, he has my heart. With his image in my mind even Legolas's wild beauty fades to insignificance. I will never understand what it is Glorfindel sees in me when he looks beyond my ordinariness.

"Glorfindel knows everything." I say, and he does. I have no secrets from him. I wish he were here now. He would help me manage this woodelf, help me manage myself as I did so.

"Does he know about us?"

The question is shocking. We do not speak of that. We never speak of that, Legolas and I.

"Yes." Glorfindel has always known but I won't tell Legolas that.

"Ah, well, you have that then." He sighs forlornly.

I turn to look at him. It is an odd response. What does he mean? He is dejected. He sits, head upon his knees cradling his injured arm against him. He must be in pain, perhaps I should offer something?

"I cannot do this any longer." He says and I frown with concern. I don't like the sound of this.

He raises his head to look me in the eye.

"The guilt strangles me. It is a weight upon my chest, it presses so I cannot breathe. An axe hangs above us and when it falls it will destroy us, Elrohir and I."

I hold my breath, gripped with horror. He cannot mean this. I had no idea he suffered thus.

"Legolas,"I say, for I must say something. "The guilt for that lies with me not you. Do not punish yourself like this. It is not deserved. It was I who wronged you, wronged my brother." I have never admitted this to any but Glorfindel before. It is strangely freeing.

But he simply laughs and it is hollow and empty.

"You have it all wrong Elladan. I am everything you have said I am. Do not feel sorry for me."

"I don't."I am quick to say it, "I don't feel sorry for you."

"I knew what I was doing." He says and I am confused for that is not how I remember it.

"You said his name." I counter, trying to get him to see the sense of it all.

"In the beginning, yes, I was confused, briefly."he says slowly. " But I knew it was you, you are so like him and yet so different. I was curious I admit it, I had always wondered...and angry. He doubted me. He always doubted me, why not be what he accused me to be? I just did not want to admit it. I can now."

He knew it was me! I do not understand why that knowledge elates me when it should anger me. So long has he let me believe I was the one at fault. He had wondered about me? It is a strange idea for me to grasp and I play with it in my mind.

"I cannot bear this," he repeats, "It tortures me endlessly. I must tell him."

I am horrified. This is fever and grief talking surely. I can feel the heat of his fever from where I sit. I must get him out of this rain.

"Legolas," I touch his arm. "Elrohir is happy. When he returned from Ithilien...I have not seen him this happy since..." since our mother I want to add but I don't and I don't know why. It is true my brother returned from his time away radiant and glowing. I had thought all was well between them.

" I know," he says, "We are happy...but it will not last. It cannot last."

I have had enough, in his current state I can see this conversation going nowhere good. I will stop this. I stand and haul him to his feet and to my surprise he does not resist.

"You are not yourself." I say firmly. "You have a fever and you will let me treat you. That does not include sitting here getting wet." I steer him away from the rain and into the dark warmth of his room. I redress his shoulder and give him something for his pain and all the while I am thinking, he cannot tell him, he cannot. I must help him come to terms with this but I have no idea how to do that. Perhaps simply telling me the reality of it will be enough? I can only hope.

He sleeps for a time but I do not. I am not making that mistake again. As the dawn rises Arwen arrives with food for both Legolas and I. I do not tell her of our night and I work hard to protect the depths of my mind lest she stumble across my errant thoughts. If she tries and fails she says nothing. She knows I am still angry about her intrusion the night before. She will assume that is why I erect these walls against her. She sends me to wash and I go, relieved to get away. I need to be on my own to think and consider. I take my time but eventually I must return.

What I find when I get back is chaos. Legolas on his feet, delirious. Pleading with my sister to let him out. This is what happens when you sit in the rain with a fever I tell him in my head.

"Where is Elrohir?" he cries distraught

"He is in Dol Amroth Legolas," my sister says calmly "You know this."

"I must find him." He struggles against her, I see he will soon overwhelm her and I stride across the room and hold him firmly in my arms. The heat of him burns against me.

I drop my voice low and quiet in his ear.

"He comes to you Legolas, we have called him. You must stay here so he can find you."

"My father is gone, I cannot feel him!" He is in tears.

I hold him tight as he fights against me. I will not let him get away and in the end he cries his grief into my shoulder. A memory flashes across my mind, the evening my mother left, holding my brother as I hold Legolas now. As he screamed and cried and raged his hurt against me. Pushing my own pain down, burying it, hiding it, losing sight of it so I could help him, so I could save him.

Losing myself so I could save him.

It is what I do. It is what I have always done.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Ok so I think you definately need to read Walls of Glass to totally get what Elladan is going on about in this chapter.**

Elves heal quickly, even grieving elves and Legolas is no exception. The fever subsides. The damage to his shoulder will take longer to repair and to be honest I am worried it may not ever be the same. I do not tell him this, I think I will leave it to Estel to discuss that with him.

I am a coward.

But along with the disappearance of the fever goes our newfound openness and candour. It is as if the discussion on the balcony never was. Legolas reverts to type, sarcastic and cutting and I respond in kind. Even to my own ears my responses to him sound cruel. My sister pours her disapproval upon me but I cannot change things. This is how we are and have always been, Legolas and I, we know no other way of communicating. He taunts me and mocks me as always.

He says no more about Elrohir, or his guilt and I am left to put it down to hallucination caused by illness. Now he is fully in control of course he will not tell my brother. Unless I am treating him I stay out of his way. It is better for the both of us. I have only a few days to keep him well until my brothers arrive but it is a struggle...for both of us.

As it turns out keeping clear of him is easy to accomplish. Legolas is not at ease in this city of Men. Arwen tells me this is the first time he has ventured back here since the attack. I think if he had not been so grief stricken, so desperate to find my brother, he would not have come here at all. He stays in his room or with my sister. He is never out alone, never near Men. I fear that as soon as he is able he will flee, shoulder or no shoulder and so I issue orders to the gates not to let him pass. I need not have worried, to flee would involve interacting with Men and that he will not do.

Legolas is younger than I, younger than us all and to me he has always seemed so very youthful. Wide eyed and open, eager and accepting. He rode with us, my brother and I, more than a few times to the Dunedain and I remember with some fondness now his excitement and inquisitiveness in the camps of Men. Not any more. That Legolas is lost to us and I do not think we will ever see him again. Now he is closed off and tense, anxious and introspective. He wants nothing to do with anyone not Elven. Even my brother, especially my brother. I miss the young and candid Legolas, even though I liked him no more then than I do now still I feel his loss. It is a loss to us all.

And so I stay away but I watch him. From a distance I try to keep him safe for Elrohir. And I watch my sister with him.

There comes a night when the storms are upon us again. The wind howls through the streets of the city. I expect my brothers tomorrow. This is the earliest they could be here and I am sure they will have been riding at speed. I only hope they are safe and have shelter from this weather. The wind brings the sea creeping round the edges of my soul and into my very being and I find myself searching him out. I never seek him unless it is to berate him for some wrongdoing. I tell myself I go to guard him from the sea longing for he is vulnerable in his grief and I will not risk disaster befalling him this close to my brothers arrival.

He is where I expected him to be, as before, outside on his balcony in the storm. I do not understand these Silvans. Do they never seek shelter from the elements?

He turns to me when I enter and he is wild, feral almost. His eyes dance with an intoxication.

"You feel it too!" he exclaims, "I knew you would come."

If that is so then he knew better than I for I have no idea why I am standing here at all.

He turns his face back to the wind and lifts it up, eyes closed in ecstasy. There in the darkness he is beautiful.

He looks back at me and his face lights up with a smile as bright as sunlight itself. A smile for me?

"Is it not glorious my friend?" he asks and I am taken aback, caught unawares, for I am not his friend. Why does he address me so? It is incongruous with our reality of bickering and resentfulness. Something about his smile is infectious and so I return it.

"It is quite exhilarating," I admit.

"I wonder what it is like there?" his tone is conversational and light and I am so unused to hearing that from him.

"I wonder what it will be like to leave, to be upon the sea?" He sounds so like the old Legolas, eager and enthusiastic, my breath catches in my mouth.

Where has he been?

"If I could leave now I would." he says and my heart falls to hear it.

"How do you resist it?, How do you not become one with the glory of this?" He stares at me intently.

"I have those I love who anchor me." I say, and it is a desperate message to him. Stay, stay, There are people who love you here.

He holds out his hand.

"Be my anchor then Elladan for I cannot deny this tonight. I fear this will engulf me, consume me. It is hard to remember why I remain."

For what feels an age I stare at his outstretched hand. We do not touch. We never touch. A memory intrudes on my thoughts. It seems I am plagued by memory lately. I remember the last time he begged for my touch, the only time...almost, when he was broken beyond repair and would accept healing from none other than me. Not my brother, my human brother, my healer brother, whose touch filled him with terror. My other brother Elrohir says he cannot heal but I know he is wrong, he does not see himself clearly. For while it was I who healed the broken bones, the wounds upon Legolas's back, Elrohir healed the vicious gouges made deep into his very soul. He has power, he just does not know it. I wonder why I think of this now with Legolas standing tall and alive beside me . I do not want to remember that time, it pains me.

I take his hand.

I speak to him of those I love who love him also. I reminisce and wander in memory. I hold him back against the power of the sea and at the same time we indulge in it together. I am right, it is exhilarating. I feel alive.

In the end it subsides and we sit, still he does not want to go inside and still I do not understand him.

"Thank you." He says simply when the roar of the wind has reduced itself to just a whisper and all is still.

"At the time I could not remember them."

"You have many who love you here." I say, driving the message home. Pleading with him to keep hold of it.

"Elrohir, Gimli, Arwen, Estel..."

"Not Aragorn," he interrupts me in a rush, " I have lost him."

I stare at him in surprise,

"You have not lost him. He loves you still."

"I hurt him. He will always carry the scar of what I have done. I cannot look at it. We will never be the same."

I think of the thin silver scar that snakes it way down Estel's arm now and then I think of him weary, drawn, bereft when we arrived here as he spoke to Elrohir of how he had not seen Legolas, not heard from Legolas. I think of his grief at the loss of him from his life and his confusion, his bewilderment at what to do next. I think of the bitter hurt he must have felt when he recieved my letter and discovered Legolas had decided to face the loss of his Father without him.

Anger spikes within me, this is a more familiar feeling than the strange almost friendship we have just shared and I embrace it. I attack.

"The scar you speak of is nothing, it does not bother him. He does not dwell on it. You should be more worried about the damage you do to his soul, the hurts you inflict now as you turn away from him. They will not heal, they will never heal." My anger flows out into the sharp, hurtful words and I do nothing to hide it. There is nothing I dislike more about him than his willingness to harm my brothers.

"I seek to protect him. I will not allow myself to hurt him again. I can never forgive myself." His voice sounds numb and detached as he attempts to defend himself. As if he does not even believe the words himself.

"You cannot forgive yourself? Oh excuse me Legolas, I did not realise you were perfect. Are you one of the Valar now? Even they are not perfect if my Father is to be believed...but you are?" I drown my words in sarcasm and rejoice when he flinches.

"You are not allowed to make mistakes then as the rest of us who are more ordinary do?"

"This was more than a mistake." He cries

I lean forward towards him, place my face in front of his. I am furious.

"It was not even that." I spit with venom and within myself I wonder where this anger has come from so abruptly.

"It was not a mistake for it is not even you who was at fault. You choose to destroy Estel over nothing!" The anger is raging inside me and I cannot stop it.

"You were broken, after pain and grief immeasurable, it broke you. I know, I was there. But you cannot admit it so you pretend you had control when you had none. You pretend rationality when rational thought had deserted you. You try to claim responsibility when it is obvious to us all you were responsible for none of it. It broke you Legolas. You are no God, you are the same as the rest of us."

He stares at me white faced, and I notice his hands shake. Suddenly I am filled with a rush of remorse. I have gone too far. My brothers will not forgive me this and nor should they. But before I can take back my words, reel them in and apologise he answers me.

"You are right. They did break me." His voice cracks with the emotion of it. "I always thought nothing could. I am a prince, I have fought the war with the dark for so long...and they broke me, those Men, ordinary men. It shames me."

He is crying.

I am the one who is ashamed.

I try to repair the damage my words have done and I hope it is not too late.

"There is no shame in it Legolas. What was done to you would break any one of us." I say flatly, truly I despise myself at this moment.

"I should not have spoken thus, forgive me, please."

I am too late with my words of apology, my olive branch. He withdraws and the look he gives me is shuttered and cold.

"You were right. I am weak."

"Weak is the one thing you are not" I say but I do not think he hears me.

"Will you go now. I wish to be alone." He curls himself into a defensive ball, knees to his chest arms around them to shut me out.

"I don't think that is wise." There is no way I am going no leave him alone here.

"Let me call Arwen..."

"No!" He cuts me off with his point blank refusal.

I am left wondering how we have ended up here so far from the camaraderie we shared just moments ago. How did I manage to make such a mess of this? I hesitate, I do not wish to leave, I do not trust him with himself.

"I will wait inside," I say. "I will be there if you need me."

"I will never need YOU." His words drip with poison, He detests me and I do not blame him.

I retreat inside and sit in the dark with my thoughts. The image of that smile he gifted me, his face alight with joy at my arrival drifts before my eyes. How have I managed to destroy something so precious? Why have I done this? What is it that drives me to such cruelty? This is not who I am.

It is who I am with him though, I cannot ignore it.

There is not a sound from the balcony. He does not stir and certainly does not call me. I never thought he would although perhaps I hoped for it. When dawn begins to light the sky I know that Arwen will soon be there with breakfast and bright words and I cannot face her. She will see right through me ...and him, straight to the damage I have inflicted upon him. The first pink blush of the sun fills the sky. It is then I take my leave. She will be here in minutes and he will be safe with her.

"I am leaving Legolas,"I say into the empty space. "Arwen will be here soon." It seems only polite to let him know he is free of me.

Of course I receive no reply.


	4. Chapter 4

I hide away until at least mid morning with my guilt churning inside me. I wish Glorfindel was here. I would confess to my bad behaviour and he would listen, quietly, then he would tell me what to do. All I want to know is what to do. But he is not here, he is far away in Imladris and I am on my own.

I know I am better than this, better than my behaviour last night suggests. I will not give in to this, I will not let it define me. I must find Legolas and apologise once again, attempt to explain myself if he will hear me. I have my doubts about that and I am uncertain how to explain what I do not understand myself. So I go to his room although it takes a considerable amount of willpower to do so, but he is not there.

I go straight to Arwen in a panic, a panic that trebles when I discover he is not with her either. She has not seen him since breakfast. Strangely she is all lightness and calm towards me when I had expected her disapproval at the least, a fury at worst, Arwen is a frightening sight when angry. From this I can only conclude Legolas has not told her of my treatment of him. I wonder why?

We begin to search the palace and then when we have no luck, the surroundings. Luckily for us a blonde elf prince in a city of Men is noticeable and it is not long until I am told he has been sighted on the training fields. Why is he there...of all places?

He is alone at the targets with his bow, attempting and failing to shoot. By Legolas's standards it is an appalling display of archery. He looks ferocious, no wonder the men steer clear of him. I am not that keen to approach him myself, but still I must. I swallow my irritation at having been dragged out here. He is ruining the hours of work I have spent on his shoulder and that annoys me but I must keep my cool at all costs and I divert myself by concentrating on removing all animosity from my voice as I draw near. I will not let it show I tell myself, I will keep it all inside. My voice when I speak is light, at least I hope it is.

"I do not remember your healer telling you this was appropriate exercise Legolas!" I call.

He turns to face me and I brace myself for the onslaught.

It does not come.

"I cannot do it." He says simply and drops his bow to the ground. He is forlorn.

The sight of his dejection tears at my heart. I need to give comfort, a reassuring touch at least but that would be unwelcome and inappropriate after last night. I end up hovering and uncertain. I will have to use words and as far as Legolas is concerned my words always let me down.

"It is too soon," I say gently. "Much too soon for this Legolas, give yourself a chance."

"I was restless," he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Usually the bow will relax me, give me focus but..." He trails off and turns away from me, stalking down towards the targets to collect the wild scattering of arrows strewn across the ground.

I follow. I have come here to make things right, to apologise, and I am determined to see it through.

"I need to speak with you about last night...my words..." I begin. This is so hard, I must consider every word I speak and as a result I sound halting and unsure.

He turns to me once again and briefly I see a glimpse of pain in his eyes before he lowers them to the ground. He doesn't look at me.

"I needed to hear that." He says, "It was helpful." It is an almost grudging thanks and I am confused.

"I have always had a problem with my pride." He continues, his back to me now. "It is my weakness. I have thought long and hard about what you had to say and I will act on it."

I stand there completely bewildered. This is not right, it is not how things should be and not what I wanted, certainly not what I expected. What do I do now? I try again to put this right.

"But I..."

The words are hardly out of my mouth when he turns on me, eyes flashing with sudden anger. This is more like it. This is more what I expected to face today.

"What is it you want? Do I need to get down on my knees before you? I HEARD you Elladan. I have wronged Aragorn and I know it. I will attempt to make it up to him, you have my word. I understand I am not perfect...I understand..." He takes a breath to calm himself before he continues,

"I understand I had lost control...of my mind. This is not easy. Can you not just LEAVE it! Leave it alone for once. How many more points must you score?"

I am aghast, and completely at a loss. I can think of no way to fix this, no way to communicate my distress to him without making it all so much worse.

He has walked away from me, back to his bow and I stand and watch while my head spins, trying to make sense of my options. What should I do next? I remember he said he was restless and with a flash of inspiration I know where I should take him. We have spent long years together, albeit reluctantly, in my brothers company and I am not totally devoid of any understanding of him.

He turns away from me as I approach but I persist.

"Legolas, I know something that will ease your mind, come with me, come into the city with me."

I reach out and grab hold of his arm so he cannot walk away yet again. Suddenly I am filled with the crystal clear knowledge this is exactly the right thing to do. Such a relief after days of doubting myself and my decisions.

He attempts to pull away but I hold firm.

"I am not welcome there." He snaps at me.

But under my fingers which rest upon his wrist I can feel the racing of his pulse and I know...he is terrified, this is just an excuse.

I drop my voice low for I know he will not wish this to be overheard, not that there is any chance of that, the overawed Men give us a wide berth.

"Fight against the fear Legolas," I say. "Do not give them power over you, they are not worth it. They are not worthy of being the dust under your feet. This is Estel's city not theirs. Reclaim it for him, reclaim it for yourself."

We are locked into a stare and I see the struggle within him reflected in his eyes. Is what I am asking of him too much?

"I will be with you." I say by way of comfort even though I know it is highly unlikely he would find my presence to be comforting at all.

He mutters something under his breath that I do not catch.

"What was that?" I ask. I know it is probably something about my pedigree, something less than complimentary but I am curious nonetheless.

"I said," he says with exaggerated clarity, "Why has Elrohir never told me that you are so often right?"

Before I can stop myself I laugh and it is a complete surprise. I had not expected to be laughing today but he is funny!

"That is because," I say "Elrohir has not managed to learn that yet. You are miles ahead of him."

The smile I receive in return is a small one, barely there, but I take it as a victory.

The walk into the city is tense and silent. At first I try my hand at small talk as a way of distraction but soon give that up as Legolas at best could only be described as monosyllabic. He radiates anxiety and wariness, eyes darting constantly in every direction. He is a wood elf on alert. He sees danger on every corner. Estel's people watch us with a mixture of awe and deference but I know Legolas sees only accusation. The accusations he hurls at himself reflected in their eyes. I walk beside him so we are shoulder to shoulder. I am his shield. No one gets to him unless through me.

I take us via the markets foolishly hoping the colour and life there might interest him and relax him but I know as soon as we arrive that it is a mistake. Too many people, sometimes I am an idiot. I can sense his fear and discomfort as they jostle us from side to side. He is surrounded by a sea of Men, could I have chosen anywhere worse?

It is with relief I spot a stall laden with cakes and sweet pastries. I know he has a sweet tooth, perhaps this will distract him? I drag him over through the crowds.

"Legolas, how about something to eat?"

He looks at me as if I have lost my mind, as if to say "How on earth can I eat anything here?" But he humours me and puruses the sweet treats with care and deliberation. The old woman behind the stall stares at him silently as he does so. He takes so long I begin to feel the beginnings of irritation. How hard can it be to choose a cake? Does he do this just to annoy me? In my heart however I know this is just a delaying tactic, delaying the moment when we step back into the throng.

At last he makes a choice holding it out to the woman as he fumbles in his pocket for coin. She takes it from him almost with reverence placing it carefully in a bag but then follows it with another, and another, five, six, seven and more cakes end up in the bag. All the ones he has been paying particular attention to. She has watched him closely. He looks startled as she pushes the bag into his hands,

"For you, my Lord, for your trouble." she says and he does not understand but tries to hand her his coins and she refuses them adamantly.

"That is not necessary." And she moves away towards another customer giving him no chance to protest.

He looks at me in confusion,

"I did not ask for these, I have not paid for these"

"She does not want you to." I say gently.

He is like a child standing there staring at the bag of cakes in his hand, bewildered.

"Why did she do that?"

"Because you are loved by her King. Because her people have wronged you, she is ashamed and this is the only way she has to make recompense. It is how they all feel Legolas, I know you can not see it but it is true."

It might be my imagination but he seems a little calmer, a little less on edge as we leave and he holds that bag as if it were a trophy. In my head I thank that old woman from the bottom of my heart. I think I may have done the right thing today, I have helped him. It is a good feeling.

The stables are to be our final destination. I know enough about Legolas to know the animals will help him. He realises where we are going long before we get there and the change is dramatic.

"We head for the stables," he says to me with excitement. "I had thought of coming here but..." He doesn't finish but I know what it was he was thinking, it was too far away, to deep into the city, too much to achieve on his own. I should have done this earlier, I think to myself. I should have put more effort in to thinking how to help him.

He begins to race ahead, all eagerness, and I have to double my speed to keep pace with him. By the time we arrive he is prancing as if he was one of the animals we go to visit and heads straight to his own horse shoving his bag of cakes at me as he goes. They are forgotten in his happiness to be here.

I do not follow him. I will leave him alone, give him time away from me. We have done quite well this morning to get here without incident. I think it may well be the longest time we have ever spent together by choice. I will not push our luck.

I spend some time with the stableboys, learning the gossip and then settle down in a corner where I help myself to one of Legolas's cakes. He has so many he will not miss one surely and I am hungry. It is an hour, maybe two, when I am disturbed by a commotion and curiosity drags me outside. Two war horses have arrived and they are causing more than a little trouble to the boys responsible for their care. They are spirited and have obviously travelled far and been ridden hard. I know immediately who's horses these are. Elrohir's and Estel's and I know exactly what that means.

My brothers have returned.

My watch over Legolas is at an end.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as I see my brothers horses I know I must get Legolas back to the palace. That is where they will have gone and I realise that in my rush to capitalise on his willingness to come with me I neglected to tell Arwen we were going. This is not my finest hour. When Elrohir arrives to find Legolas missing there will hell to pay. Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

I find him in one of the rear stalls talking to his horse, at least I assume that is what he is doing. I lean against the door frame and watch, in truth I am transfixed. Why have I never noticed before how truly exquisite he is? He takes my breath away. He is not Glorfindel, no-one, no-one can eclipse Glorfindel for me but oh how he stirs me! I stand and watch for far more minutes than I should. I have never imagined wanting anyone but Glorfindel for so long but I DO want him. If he offered himself to me I would take him...if he were not already Elrohir's.

My mind wanders and I find myself thinking on Glorfindel and Erestor. Is this what it is like for them? I have never understood it, I tell Glorfindel I do but it is a lie. He swears whatever it is he feels for Erestor it does not affect his love for me, that I am his heart. I have never been able to grasp that, to truly believe it. If I am his heart why would he want something more? Now I think I know.

But Legolas and I will never be. We have had our one and only time and that will be enough. I am sad though, deeply sad that will always be tainted by the terrible betrayal it was to my brother. I think Legolas wishes it had never happened, I know he does I have seen the pain it causes him. I on the otherhand suddenly find that memory is a treasure, one of my most precious. I sigh, he hears me and turns around, the spell is broken.

"What are you looking at?" His beautiful face is creased with a frown.

"I was thinking," I say, "that I have actually enjoyed your company today."

His eyes widen in surprise. He did not expect that!

"Oh." He does not know how to respond and looks away. I know as a Silvan he is well used to freeness. These desires I am discovering will not be completely alien to him. I wonder what he thinks of me when he sees me? I wonder if he desires me still? For myself not my similarity to my brother. Thinking on my brother reminds me.

"Elrohir and Estel have arrived."

I see his shoulders tense and I continue,

"We must go back Legolas, they will be worried, they do not know we are here."

I wonder which of them it is he is afraid to see...maybe both.

It is as if a weight has descended on him crushing him in front of my eyes. I want to relieve him of it, I want him to be the being of lightness and grace he was when I came in here. He should always be that.

"When Elrohir discovers you are missing he will send out a search party," I try to lighten the mood.

"When he finds out it is me you have gone off with he will think I have taken you out of the city and abandoned you...or worse." I smile so he knows I am teasing without malice.

He returns it uncertainly. I don't blame him for his uncertainty, when have I ever joked with him?

"Worse probably," he replies, "perhaps you have sold me to slave traders? I think I will fetch a fine price"

"Oh you would fetch a fine price indeed" I say appreciately and I mean it.

"Perhaps I should consider that?"

He laughs, and the tension eases...slightly.

I throw my arm around his shoulders as if we have been friends for years instead of what we are which is ...I find I do not know, What are we? I think perhaps we are not the same now as we were this morning. Not friends though and that causes me regret. If I cannot have him I at least could have his friendship.

The walk back to the palace is a silent one and he spends most of it deep in thought while I find myself completely distracted by him, his hair, his touch, the light of his eyes, it is all I can do not to constantly stare at him. My thoughts are not the most pure. As we climb the steps to the entrance he speaks.

"Elrohir will be worried."

He is right there, and I have to agree. Elrohir can drown himself in worry.

"Sometimes his anxiety can be suffocating," Legolas continues and his shoulders slump. I look at him in concern, I understand what he is saying, I have been on the receiving end of that myself but I had hoped he and my brother had reached a place where they were more secure. It seems not.

I worry for them, I know Legolas needs Elrohir with the depths of his soul. I have seen the desperation of that need that night the fever stripped him bare. I wonder how I can help them.

While I have been lost in my thoughts Legolas has moved on to other problems,

"And Aragorn will be angry."

Oh he will, he will indeed.

"Perhaps he has reason to be?" It slips out before I can stop it and it is an error.

"And perhaps it is none of your business!" He snarls. Our oasis of companionship has come to an end. My words have let me down again.

He shrugs off my arm and stalks away in anger and I am left to trail behind him miserably. So quickly everything changes.

I let him go ahead, if he wants to face them on his own so be it, perhaps I will just avoid them all together. It is a pleasant thought that distracts me as I imagine turning around, back to the stables and riding off to Imladris and Glorfindel on my own. I seem to spend my life sorting out the mess created by my brothers and all of a sudden I realise I have had enough. There must be more to life than this. I am fed up with the lot of them.

I take my time heading to Estel's study, that is where they will be and where Legolas will have gone as well. Before I even reach it I can hear the chaos, raised voices pouring through the woodwork out into the corridor. The guards outside the door look terrified and relieved to see me. I imagine they have no idea what they should do about what is obviously an unholy row. From where I stand I can hear Elrohir is at his most uncontrollable. I should walk through that door and calm him down, pour water on his fire, help to reign himself in and see reason as I always do, At times I feel I am an interpreter between him and the rest of the world, but why should I be?

Something within me snaps. I open the door but I do not go in there with calm and reason. I am a whirlwind of frustration. I am a vortex of rage.

They do not even notice me.

Elrohir and Estel whose relationship has long been uneasy, who have been worn thin by days of worry and fatigue are at each other's throats with Legolas white faced and tense in the corner. I presume Estel has said his piece, expressed his hurt, he has been so very hurt by Legolas this last year, and Elrohir has taken offence. What else can it be?

I can channel my Father when I wish to and it is quite effective as no one expects it. I am the quiet one, the easy, gentle one. Glorfindel knows otherwise and maybe Elrohir when he remembers, to the rest though that part of me is hidden. I am every bit of my Father now.

"What do you think you are doing?"

I do not shout, I do not need to...yet.

They notice me then.

Elrohir is upon me, justifying, arguing, rationalising his bad behaviour. He should know better, he should know I have reached the end of myself but he does not notice. Does he ever really notice me? A part of me knows I am being unfair but I cannot reach it, it is too far away.

"You overstep yourself Elrohir!" It is Estel, still angry, I can see he is tired, that grief and sadness of a lost friendship lie behind this. Normally I would care, today I do not. I open myself and let the rage sweep through me, an unusual feeling and not an unwelcome one.

"Stop it!" I scream it. I scream my frustrations to the sky.

"You can not arrive here and behave like this. Look at him!" I indicate Legolas where he stands a statue of tension.

"There is no excuse for this. I do not care who has offended whom. I do not care how tired you are. I have not spent this time trying to keep him intact for you, for YOU Elrohir, for the both of you, so you can tear him apart the moment you get here. I am tired, ME, I will not watch this. Take yourselves away from us and leave us out of this."

I cannot control myself now I have started. I am shaking, I breathe so fast my head spins but I am still angry.

"I have had enough of you, I have had enough of you all. Will you never stop?"

In the end it is Legolas who calms me and I think we are all surprised at that. My brothers certainly are. I feel a soft touch on my arm and turn, surprised. I do have enough of me left to feel surprise.

"It is alright Elladan." He says gently, "It is alright." And I shudder to a stop.

"It is not alright," I murmur and I think he is the only one who hears me, "It is not alright. I am always in the middle of this." It is hard to catch my breath.

My brothers are shocked into silence and I glare at them. Estel looks at me with concern in his eyes and I see the grief behind them but I am bled dry of compassion, It shocks me how little I care. I want nothing more to do with this.

"Can I trust you to behave?" Even as I speak I feel numb, "Can I leave for I do not want to be near any of you."

"Elladan don't, I am sorry." Elrohir is contrite. Too late he realises he has pushed me too far, he always realises it too late.

"If you had more control you wouldn't have to say you are sorry. I am not your keeper!" I spin on my heels and make to leave. I cannot get out of here fast enough.

"Legolas," I ask as I reach the door. "Are you safe here? If not leave with me."

He gives a curt nod, "I will stay. I will answer to my part in this."

Oh well, I have tried my best to help him. I think I have never felt so relieved in all my life as I am to leave that room. The guards stare at me in trepidation and say nothing.

Behind me the room is in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

If I wanted time alone completely losing control and raging inappropriately was not the way to do it. Instead I end up with a string of visitors. It would have been preferable if they had all come to see me at once and got it over with but they do not.

Elrohir arrives first all contrition and remorse, and spilling over with anxiety.

"I am so sorry," he says, "but..."

I stop him there,

"I do not want to hear your buts Elrohir."

He is without Legolas and I wonder why.

"Where is Legolas? I thought there would be no dragging you away from each other."

"He is with Estel, he wished to speak with him."

"That is good!" I exclaim, "Is it not?"

He sighs in reply,

"Yes, yes it is good, as long as it does not deteriorate into something else." He chews on his lip with worry.

"I was terrified for him when I got your letter, I should have gone with him...I should have been with him."

I am determined to stop this self pity right here before it grows into something worse.

"He did not exactly communicate clearly with you Elrohir. You are not a mind reader. And he had options, he had Estel...Gimli even. He chose not to use them. You do him a disservice if you will not let him take responsibility for that."

"I don't know why he will not talk to me."

"Because sometimes you are difficult to talk to." I snap and it hurts him. I should explain that further but I find I don't have the energy so instead I turn my back on him.

"Elladan," I feel his hand on my shoulder, "Are you well? You seem ...angry."

"I AM angry." I mutter, angry at the unfairness of life, I think to myself.

He will not let it go,

"What have I done?"

I cannot tell him the truth, and I now know what that is, that he has placed Legolas completely

out of my reach. It is an unfair anger and one that makes no real sense. I have Glorfindel and he is more than enough, I would never replace him. I do not resent my brother having his own love that is just as glorious. At least I will not resent it, not tomorrow or in the days to come but right now I do.

So instead I justify my anger in other ways, his behaviour has given me plenty to choose from.

"You have returned here when I have been struggling to care for Legolas and you damage him the instant you arrive." I say. "You expect me to be your control because you do not want to exercise any self restraint yourself. I am tired of doing that Elrohir. You are not a child, I am not your parent. I am sick of being the calm one, the reasonable one while you live your life with the freedom of not having to care!"

Glorfindel has been telling me I should have this conversation with Elrohir for decades, why not do it now?

"I do not mean to!" he says with horror,

"You DO mean to Elrohir. and I let you."

He puts his arms around me to comfort and rests his head against mine,

"I will try to change for you,"

"Try to change for yourself." Suddenly I am overwhelmed by remorse, by a dragging sense of sadness and guilt. I love him so, my brother. I can not exist without him and Legolas and I have already wronged him. I understand Legolas's raw grief and guilt the other night for surely we cannot keep what we have done from him forever and it will destroy him. I have already destroyed him he just does not know it. It is all I can do not to fall apart.

He senses my unrest, of course he does.

"What is wrong Elladan? You feel so...unhappy."

I fob him off,

"It is nothing, ignore me, I have been here alone and I am missing Glorfindel." It is not exactly a lie, I AM missing him, he would help me work through this in my head, I miss his wisdom.

Elrohir accepts it and we spend the rest of our time speaking of much lighter subjects. He is weary, I see that and eager to return to Legolas so I let him go.

Estel when he arrives is a much harder prospect to deal with. He watches me like a hawk, prying away my layers trying to assess what is wrong. Unlike Elrohir he is more difficult to fool. It is through a healers eyes he views me not a brothers.

"What ails you?" He asks.

"Absolutely nothing." I try to give him no clues, no hints of the turmoil under the surface.

"That was a rather unexpected display you put on."

"Can I not be unexpected? Must I always being boring Elladan?"

He frowns, "Stop trying to distract me! What was the cause of that?"

"Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me the cause of the row between you and Elrohir?

That stops him in his tracks. I have shamed him. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I was out of line. I admit it, I am tired, Elrohir and I have had long days of worry. None of that is an excuse. I should have known Elrohir would react badly. I should have taken that into account...and Legolas, it was not the time to point his failings out to him."

I feel sorry for him.

"Elrohir says you and Legolas have spent time together. That is good Estel."

"He seems changed..." he murmurs as if speaking to himself, "He seemed more...accepting of himself,"

But he will not let me off the hook as easily as all that.

"It cannot have been easy for you caring for Legolas on your own given your...difficulty to get along." He looked at me through narrowed eyes, "Perhaps that has taken its toll? Arwen says you have found it challenging at times."

Damn Arwen, I think. Can she not ever keep her mouth shut? Must she tell Estel everything?

But then I remember something I should have told him, what am I thinking? Why am I suddenly so neglecting of my duties as a healer.

"I need to you look at Legolas's shoulder," I say, "I have concerns...I have not mentioned them to him as yet."

He looks at me with interest as I elaborate.

"The damage was extensive and the infection deep seated. It doesn't heal as well as I would expect, I would welcome a fresh pair of eyes, perhaps I have missed something?"

As a distraction it works perfectly even though I did not intend it as that and he is instantly focused. My transgressions are forgotten.

" I will see him tonight then," he says with concern, "He is with Elrohir so I can hardly interrupt them at the moment. Will you be at dinner? We could see him together then. I am sure they will emerge for that."And he gives me a smile.

At the thought of Legolas and Elrohir together I am struck by an unexpected pang of jealousy and it makes me rather bad tempered to think of it. I should not be jealous of my brother. That is not necessary.

"I am not in the mood for dinner." I snap at him and he raises his eyebrows with surprise but does not bite back.

"I will send Arwen then with food for you here." He replies but I will have none of that.

"I am not hungry!"

It is the truth. I stormed out with Legolas's precious cakes still in my possession and sitting in my room in a temper I have consumed most of them. I am not hungry in the slightest.

Eventually Estel gives up. I am determined and far to old to fall for anything he can throw at me. He cannot breach my defences and I remain a closed book. So I am left on my own and the relief that accompanies that is enormous.

Legolas arrives last of all and late, very late. I have abandoned attempts to sleep and sit at my desk writing to Glorfindel. I write to him often while I am away, he probably gets sick of the letters or the messengers get fed up with bearing them but it helps me to think things through, writing to him, and eases my yearning for him. I can imagine his advice, his lectures to me when I have been foolish. He would be lecturing me tonight I think. I have told him of my brothers, my unexpected rage and my frustration with them.

Legolas is very still when he arrives. Still, quiet and un-Legolas like as he sits himself on my bed and watches me silently. I wait for him to speak, after all it was he who came here, I did not invite him. Eventually he does and it is not what I expected.

"I am worried about you." he says. The thought of Legolas worrying about me is a strange one. I try to distract him as I did the others but with less success.

"Why are you here? Why are you not with Elrohir enjoying yourself?."

He smiles softly a smile full of innuendo.

"We have already enjoyed ourselves. There is a limit you know Elladan. I may have exhausted him." His face then turns serious,

"In truth, he is sleeping. He is worn out, he has ridden hard to reach me. It is my fault of course. But I did not come here to discuss Elrohir."

I turn my back and return to my letter writing. I am tired myself and unaccountably melancholy. Plus he is so very alluring. I do not want to look at him, my desire makes me restless. Perhaps if I ignore him he will go?

It is a false hope.

"What are you writing?" He asks.

"A letter to Glorfindel," I sigh, I don't know why I am answering, it is none of his business.

"Ah! You miss him." He says it as if it is a grand discovery.

"It helps me organise my thoughts." I say, "but yes I miss him." A wave of loneliness sweeps over me. Imladris is so far away. So many I love are too far away. I do not realise I am crying until the tear falls on the paper in front of me. How ridiculous, I am behaving like a child who is homesick for it's mother. I brush the tears hurriedly from my face, Thank goodness Legolas cannot see them.

He notices all the same.

"You are unhappy."He says bluntly, "Is it the sea?"

"No."

I am sure it is not, I can feel nothing of it but the lightest whisper in the depths of my mind. It is hardly there.

"I think of those who wait for me, that I cannot reach and those I will leave behind I do not want to lose. Sometimes I feel torn in two. It is silly Legolas, Ignore it."

But instead he leans forward intently.

"It IS the sea."

"No, It is merely nostalgia," Why will he not listen?

He takes my hand and his touch burns me. It sends a jolt to my groin that I can't ignore. I try to snatch my hand back but he will not release it.

"I can help Elladan, let me in."

"I don't need help" I protest but I let him in regardless, I want the contact, I have wanted it all day. I cannot overlook the opportunity to obtain it.

I sense him in a rush, green, light, joy, he is a summer meadow, I can smell the new grass. And behind him is the sea. It is my sea at first, grey and dreary, the sand black and the sky thunderous and I am dragged down into despair. But with Legolas there it changes slowly and initially I do not notice. When he is done the water is sparkling and as blue as the sky above it, where water and sky meet I can barely tell. The golden sands are warm under my feet and I dig my toes in, where did my shoes go?

I see him then at the waters edge, dancing in the waves. "Elladan!" He cries, "join me!" And I do. I am like a child on a picnic. It is peaceful. It is perfect. I could stay here all day, I am happy.

And then he is gone, as quickly as that but the blue sea, the golden sands, the feeling of peace remains.

I open my eyes and he is smiling at me.

"How did you do that?" I gasp.

He shrugs his shoulders,

"How did you change my waves of terror that would drown me into something bold and exciting in the storm?" He asks in return.

I have to admit I do not know.

"Does it matter how?" He asks "As long as we can."

Perhaps he was right and it was the sea all along causing my disquiet, my misery and uncharacteristic anger. The intimacy of the connection has even knocked away the harsh jagged edges of my desire, only a warm golden glow remains.

In one smooth movement he leaps to his feet.

"I will go now," And I realise I don't want him to.

"I need to be with Elrohir," he says by way of explanation. "I need to. He lightens my despair but I knew something was ill with you. Did I help?"

I nod. He has helped indeed.

On his way out he pauses and his face lights up when he spies the now nearly empty bag of cakes. He snatches it up but when he opens it looks up at me in confusion,

"Where are they all?"

"Ah... Legolas, sorry..." I have done it again and ruined everything. That old woman, the cakes, were something special and I have been thoughtless.

"I was hungry..." my voice trails off, it really is a pathetic excuse.

I await the explosion.

It doesn't come, instead he grins widely at me.

"At least you have left me one. You are as bad as Gimli!" He laughs, and as he exits the door I hear him say,

"Why must all my friends be untrustworthy around cakes?"

It is the second time he has called me friend and I find I like it.

I return to my letter, I have just finished a long rant about the ungratefulness of my brothers and I think I will leave it in there. The sentence I had started when Legolas interrupted me lies in front of me incomplete and I ponder it.

 _About Legolas..._

Do I tell Glorfindel of my discovery today? We will certainly discuss it for I need him to help me get my head around it but perhaps a letter is not the best place for that. No, I decide it is not. I will tell him that face to face.

I pick up the pen and begin to write, I know what I will say.

 _About Legolas...This may well surprise you but I think we may be friends._


End file.
